


Serenity

by MissCrazyWriter321



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Episode: s04e11 Shattered Sight, F/M, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:49:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29792157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCrazyWriter321/pseuds/MissCrazyWriter321
Summary: "I'd forgotten,' he says, his voice soft, and a little rough, 'What it feels like to look at you."Post 4x11, Hook and Emma take a moment for themselves.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 11
Kudos: 43





	Serenity

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on ffnet ages ago, but I was going through my old fics, and decided I wanted this here. Please enjoy!

She’s not sure how long they stay like that: Arms wrapped around each other, lips moving in unison, hearts once more beating in sync. She isn’t sure when her tears start falling, or when the reality of the situation-of what had nearly happened, what she’d nearly lost-hits her. And she isn’t sure she cares.

He pulls away from her slightly, brushing the tears from her cheek, and she leans into his touch. She pulls him back to her, but before their lips can find each other once more, the world starts to spin. She sways, and only his hand and hook wrapped around her keep her upright. 

“Love,” he murmurs, his breath warm on her face, “When’s the last time you ate?”

Ate? She forces herself to think. 

“Yesterday…Morning, maybe?”

His eyes narrow in disapproval, but he says nothing. Shifting her in his arms so that he can keep hold of one hand, but rest his hook on the small of her back, he guides her into his room. 

She lets him lead her to the edge of the bed, and at his expectant face, sits. He smiles warmly, and she flinches, because his eyes are _too_ warm, too full, and how did she _not_ notice that was missing? 

He makes his way over to the mini-fridge and microwave she stuck in his room a few weeks ago. He had teased her about it then. (Was he even  _ him _ , then? She isn’t sure.) Now, however, he seems quite grateful for their presence. 

She knows he doesn’t want to face the others any more than she does, and Granny’s will be swarming after such a busy day. The town, every bit Snow and Charming’s kingdom, will want to be near each other; the more, the better. They’re different, and she supposes they always have been. They don’t find large crowds comforting. 

The find comfort only in being with those they trust completely.

_ He trusted her completely. _

She tries to push the thought away, just like she has so many others like it, but it’s too much, all too much, and he should be  _ angry.  _ But he’s not. He’s across the room from her, warming up chicken noodle soup for her with a soft smile on his face, like  _ nothing  _ has happened, and she  _ can’t- _

“Stop it.” 

She jumps at his voice, and looks at him guiltily.

“I was just-“

He leaves the soup to warm up on its own, making his way to her side. He leans down, pressing his lips to hers, effectively cutting off her protests. Before her arms can make their way around his neck once more, he pulls back, his good hand resting on her shoulder. 

“You were just feeling guilty, now stop it.”

She swallows shakily.

“I should have noticed.”

He says nothing, his expression still gentle, and she hurries on.

“I mean, I knew something was wrong. I did. I just-“

“Had more important things to tend to. I understand.”

And guilt floods her anew, because it isn’t an accusation, and he doesn’t even seem  _ hurt.  _ It’s as if he  _ expects  _ it, as if he thinks he  _ deserves  _ to be less, somehow, and she can’t-she  _ can’t  _ let him think that. 

“No.”

Her voice comes out as little more than a croak, and she swallows, before trying again.

“No,” she says, and her voice is much firmer this time. “It wasn’t that. It was just, you told me everything was fine, and even though I  _ knew,  _ I was….I was trying something new.” 

“Trust.” He finishes quietly, his eyes somehow _more_ understanding, _more_ warm, and she can’t believe he’s real. 

“I guess I could have picked a better time to do it.” She feels tears burning her eyes once more, and she closes her eyes, trying to force them away. 

The hand falls from her shoulder, but before she can even begin to wonder why, she feels the bed dip next to her, and she’s pulled into a warm, safe embrace. She takes several deep, calming breaths, resting her head in the crook of his neck. His lips press against her temple, and a few tears escape, trickling down her face. She’s tired of this, tired of crying, but more than that, she’s just  _ tired.  _

He holds her for some time, murmuring nonsense into her hair, and she allows herself to relax. Finally, he moves to get up. She tries to follow, and an amused look makes its way onto his face. (His eyes are still warm and loving, and the guilt threatens to resurface, but she pushes it away. For him, she pushes it away.)

He pushes her gently but firmly back down, before making his way back to the soup. He brings it to her, and at his stern look, she begins to eat.

She hadn’t realized she was hungry, but as soon as the warm noodles touch her tongue, she realizes that she’s ravenous, and she quickly devours the rest. She feels his eyes on her the whole time, studying her, and while there was a time it would have make her uncomfortable, she relishes in it now. Eventually, the soup is gone, and she looks up to meet his eyes.

They are awed and searching, and she can’t stop noticing all of his different expressions.

“I’d forgotten,” he says, his voice soft, and a little rough, “What it feels like to look at you.”

It’s a simple statement, but for some reason, (and she knows that, another day, she will blame exhaustion, stress, or even the soup,) it goes straight to her heart, and the tears she has twice calmed find their way back to her eyes. She forces them away, before standing, putting the bowl down on the floor.

He raises an eyebrow, but before he can speak, she’s on her feet, pulling him toward her. He relaxes into the kiss instantly, his hand easily finding its place in her hair, even as his hook steadies her. She wants to stay like that forever, but too soon, he’s pulling back firmly, not allowing her to follow.

She pouts, (yes, pouts, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she realizes how tired she truly must be, but she doesn’t care.) and he chuckles lightly.

“Come now, love. We both know your place isn’t here, not now.” He steps close to her again, cupping her face, brushing his nose against hers. 

“I think it is,” she argues, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“No.” After a moment, he steps back, his eyes sad but understanding, and unrelenting.

“You’ve responsibilities, Emma. We both know it.”

_ Regina,  _ she realizes suddenly.  _ And Belle. _ And she hates the curse that put her in this position, hates that Rumpelstiltskin made her this, gave her these responsibilities, and wishes she were anyone else. Wishes she could stay with her boyfriend, if only to make sure nothing happens to him.  _ Again.  _ She came too close to losing him today. 

But he’s right, of course. She can’t. That’s not who she is.

“They can wait,” she says anyway, desperately wanting, just this once, to be selfish.

He smirks lightly, but it falls in an instant. 

“No, they can’t. You’re needed.”

“And you don’t need me?” She teases, trying to hide her mounting frustration at  _ all of this _ . He sighs.

“Darling, I would love nothing more than to keep you with me always, but we both know, that’s not possible. Your people need you.”

And it’s too much, it really is, and  _ haven’t I earned this? _

“I hate this,” she snaps, allowing the words to finally slip out. 

“I-I nearly lost the man I…” She catches herself, the word burning her tongue, begging to be said. His breath catches, and his eyes are wide, as she rolls the word around in her mind.

It’s not that it isn’t true, it’s just…. A lifetime of learning not to say it does not go away easily.

Still… He almost died today, and she was so scared, and he didn’t know-still  _ doesn’t  _ know, and she-she  _ wants  _ to say it.

“The man that I love today, and I can’t even stay with him!”

He exhales slowly, his eyes nearly falling shut, and the corners of his lips raise slowly. 

She wants to say it again, wants to never stop saying it, if it’ll keep that goofy grin on his face.

“I love you.” She knows she’s never said it before today, but she’d assumed that, as with everything else, he had known what she was thinking. The look on his face and the awe in his eyes makes it clear, however: He truly didn’t.

His hand comes up, mirroring her pose, and he breathes against her lips, “And I love you.”

And it isn’t a surprise, of course it isn’t. She’s known for a long time. Still, to hear the words… It’s somewhat overwhelming. She kisses him firmly, and she can feel his resolve fading, can feel his struggle with himself. Long moments pass, before he firmly pulls back. (He’s done that more today than she’s ever known him to do with his heart, she thinks absently.) 

“But for us, the loss was only almost. For others, it wasn’t, and they need someone to see to them. I won’t keep you from that.”

She sighs in acceptance, pressing one more quick kiss to his lips, before stepping back.

“But what I will do is help you.”

She looks at him in surprise, and he smiles. 

“You go talk to Regina, and I will speak with Belle.”

She certainly didn’t expect this, but suddenly, the thought of having someone to help her take care of everyone sounds really…Nice.

An idea forms in the back of her head, and before she can second-guess herself, she voices it. 

“You know, I haven’t seen much of my parents these past few days, so after we’re done, I think I’m going to head back to the loft.”

His face falls slightly, but he hides it well, forcing a slight smile. 

“I understand, love.”

“And,” she continues, glancing down at the floor, “I was hoping you’d come with me.”

He doesn’t answer for a long moment, and when he does, his voice is soft and a little shaky.

“I’d be honored.”

-

She arrives nearly an hour and a half later, Regina and Henry in tow. She’s almost completely unsurprised to find him already there with Belle.

It’s a tight fit, the whole Charming family, two heartbroken women, and a gentleman pirate, squeezing into the tiny apartment. 

Perhaps this isn’t her ideal, but it  _ is  _ her reality, and as the evening wears on and she finds herself on the couch, curled into Killian’s side, with Henry leaning against her legs, she finds she doesn’t mind much.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
